You know when you’re on the subway
Trying to discern your hawthorn
From your heliotrope, let’s say;
And suddenly—you weren’t forewarned—
This woman sits right next to you,
Blasting whiffs of thick, sweet gourmand.
Fruity, nutty, vanilla… phew.
Of such things, how can one be fond?
Alas, vox populi hath said
That cheap perfumes of sales do boast.
As far as taste, don’t be misled:
There is no true “one spritz fits most!”